


15 Small, Monumental, Moments

by InAmongstTheMountains



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 19:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5677777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InAmongstTheMountains/pseuds/InAmongstTheMountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifteen moments that change everything.</p><p>More self-indulgent Quinn/SW drabbling because I belong in the trash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	15 Small, Monumental, Moments

First it’s a lingering on the end of a sentence, a curious glance that breaks from their typical expression. Quinn pretends to ignore it, she wants to see how far she can push him.

Second it’s eye contact that goes on a second too long, forcing Quinn to tear his gaze away. Out of deference he calls it, but in his heart starts the seed of something far different.

Third is a distance met with oddly honest excuses, a careful dance around the ship never staying too long in a room lest something slip. She allows him this, though it would be within her power to make him stay.

Fourth it’s a different focus during battle, a ferocity that brings them to each other’s sides. Quinn calls it his duty, a privilege even. She gives it no name but the spark in her is troubling; this is not becoming of a Sith.

Fifth is a kiss, neither can tell if it's an order or an impulse, there's no denying its gravity. They both hold the memory tight, the imprint of the others hands on their body lasting. It's folly, a diversion, Quinn will punish himself with an increased workload, and she will deny what she knows is coming to be true.

Sixth is a question and an honest response, a small crack in their facades as the truth of interest comes out. Quinn finds he is both elated and amused that she believed he was the one pulling her around, and she bites back the stone in her stomach that's lifted every time she sees him smile.

Seventh is a choice, one not made readily, it closes a long chapter in Quinn's life, and with it comes a sense of unburden that he’d forgotten what it was like. And there she is, confident, proud of him, the most glorious of being in the galaxy, and he wants to show her every way he feels the same.

Eighth is passion, a revelry in what is and what can be. For Quinn it is a dangerous drug, and one he no longer worries for the side effects; it blocks out the voice of pragmatism in the back of his mind. For her its second wind of power, a tempest unlike anything she’s experienced; if he asked her to raze a planet she would. And that realization is terrifying.

Ninth is a metamorphosis, a hardening and the iron taste of revenge. Quinn knows the sensation, the pressing rage, the cut of nails into one's palm. But to be on the outside is different, and the voices comeback: a seed of doubt next to care renamed adoration. He becomes two people, and she never notices, and hopefully will never experience it.

Tenth is moment frozen in time, it's the raw emotion that twists her furious, beautiful face into something broken. For him it's a locked up heart and regret, in his doubt he betrayed both the things he loves; her and the Empire, and the only punishment is death. She doesn’t grant him that, just turns with hurt-hardened eyes and leaves everything they were among the pieces of the droids. She should have never allowed herself this weakness, but there is a hole in her heart that smoulders. Quinn considers granting it himself, but the blaster doesn't make it from its holster. This punishment was far far worse, and exactly as he deserved.

Eleventh is an awkward silence, the steely commanding tone that sounded so wrong coming from her soft lips. He bows his head, another ‘my lord’ follows, and the silence that had never been there before returns. When he lifts his head, her back is to him, for she can no longer bear to look upon the face that she would have given the galaxy too.

Twelfth is time and with it a small hope, months of rusty gestures, of formality and disconnected words, unresolved emotions and pain. But then Quinn catches the hesitant question at the end of her words, the meeting of gazes that don't rapidly break apart. He will serve her, as long as it takes to make up for all his transgressions. He doesn't need to, she wants to tell him, but it worries her still, the surety and strength she feels beneath the conflict when she’s near him.

Thirteen is a promise, it's the prologue to an admittance they both should have given years ago. She is calmer with him, and perhaps finally ready to talk. When she tells him they will finally speak after her meeting with Marr, there is nothing more he could have wanted in the galaxy. But as always, the empire comes first.

Fourteen is cataclysm, it is in the space-muted explosions, the screeching sirens, and his desperate pounding on the airlock that separates him from her side. From that night on Quinn wakes every morning thinking of her, and as she nearly dies twice, her last thought before unconscious and first upon waking is of him, and what he finally means to her.

Fifteen is reunion, an embrace on a level that none could witness for it would take two hearts as worn and yearning as theirs to experience. It's the final shedding of two masks they’d long long outgrown, and the serenity that comes with the simplest yet most terrifying three words two souls could tell each other:                                                                                               

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                            _I love you._

 


End file.
